Cold As Ice
by CrazedTB
Summary: Russia was gradually losing interest in her, and she knew it. And it tore her to mutilated bits, the tattered pieces of her heart aching. Russia/OC America/OC Rated T for safety
1. Prologue: Slowly, Gradually

**Konichiwa, boku wa Kerushii! Ahem, sorry, couldn't help myself.**

**So, this would be my first Axis Powers Hetalia fan fiction. Also, please no comments on how "APH is a manga with personified countries, not states, so if you won't even follow that than you shouldn't even write a fan fiction," because that's rather annoying.** **It's a fan fiction, okay.**

**But anyway, after reading some brief history on Alaska, I decided to write a fan fiction with Alaska as an OC. I know Russia seems cruel and uncaring, but I'm going with history, okay? And besides, Russia is cruel. And yet, he's still my favorite character. Maybe this shows how truly insane I am? Kolkolkol.**

**I apologize; it's been a while since I've written. **

**Cold as Ice**

**Prologue: **_**Slowly, Gradually**_

_Each day she waited cheerfully, desperately, hopefully, for him to return, for that spark of interest to ignite in his violet eyes that she had grown up with again. And this day, as any other, he wouldn't show. _

_Each time he came, which was a rarity anymore, she had to fight harder and harder for even a glimmer of that ignition._

_He was slowly, gradually, losing interest._

_Russia was gradually losing interest in her, and she knew it. And it tore her to mutilated bits, the tattered pieces of her heart aching._

_And yet Alaska never lost hope. Not in his interest returning- no, she knew this was long gone, if not, at least, buried in her- but in someone different showing interest, or in him at least showing up. Russia saw this, he knew she knew there was no hope, but didn't care. He still cared for her welfare, but this was hardly enough to keep him visiting her. No, he had something-or rather, some_one_- else entirely in mind for her safety._

_He was growing tired of her._

_So today, as every other day, she waited hopefully. As she went about her daily chores, she waited._

_And today, as most other days, he wouldn't show. Because he was bored of her. _

_This left her feeling like a child's toy. Once the child was bored, he would quit playing with the toy, and they toy couldn't do anything to get its owners affection back once it was gone. And yet, the child wouldn't give the toy up until its mother told him to for the millionth time because it was old and ratty. Except in this case, the "mother" was Russia's conscience and the" reason" was he felt someone else should care for her since he couldn't. Not to say he wasn't bored of her, sure, but that wasn't the only reason behind giving her up._

_But this "Toy's" heart wanted the "Boy" it remembered back,(even though it knew there was no hope), so they could play together and laugh together like a true child with its toy. _

_Tonight she would go to sleep with nightmares of abandonment, for the dreams of olden days anew were abandoned as she would soon be. And tonight Russia would worry about whatever trouble his country was in, as it almost always was. She originally thought this was the reason for his absence, but ignorance soon left her as she realized the dwindling population of animals whose fur Russia adored began to grow. Even in times of turmoil the population was still low, even if just slightly. _

_She missed how they would comfort each other in those weary times. Now no one comforted her, and no one comforted him. But, even though he was being cruel to her, she still worried for his sanity._

_But tomorrow, as any other day, she would wait, weary and broken hearted._

_And tomorrow, as any other day, he wouldn't be comforted, nor would she, because he wouldn't show._

**So, what did you think? Tell me if you were confused any, because I'll be glad to help. Also, I apologize if this was historically inaccurate. **

**And if the redundancy annoyed you, I apologize, but it was for artistic purposes. Please Review~ **


	2. Swell

**Three replies already?! Yes! When I woke up this morning I didn't half expect one, let alone two! So thank you! Arigotou gozaimasu! Danke! Muchos Gracias! Merci! And thank you so very much in what ever other language you may speak!**

**.Affair**

**Thank you! And what a strange coincidence! I apologize if you were planning on writing her character for getting to it first. And don't feel bad about liking Russia's cruelty, because I do as well. But then again… I do have several mental and emotional disorders, so maybe it's because I can relate. Hmmm. Not that I'm saying you have a mental disorder or anything, of course! **_**Nervous laugh.**_

**HikariSoel**

**Thank you as well! I apologize for not writing a paragraph in response to you as well, but I don't have much to respond to. I'm sorry if that sounded rude.**

**SnogginNoggin**

**Yesh! Another Russia/Alaska fan! And thank you! That's how I want Alaska to end up as well, except for America being nice, of course. And that is ironic! Haha, guess the whole "You never really know what ya got 'til it's gone" thing applies well!**

**Wow, all this apologizing reminds myself of Canada-san. Well, back on the subject of mental disorders, I'm starting to question my own sanity….. And the polite sentence structure of that sentence makes me question it even more so. **

**Reason being is that I feel like someone is **_**always **_**watching me. Epic emphasis on **_**ALWAYS.**_** Yesterday, while home alone, I searched up and down for some sort of camera. Yeah……..**

**Well, anyway, on with the story. This one may suck, so I apologize. **

**Cold as Ice**

**Chapter 1: **_**Swell**_

There she sat, on this shore once laced with ice. Her ashen hair swayed solemnly, her violet blue eyes lay still on the blue waves. Such tranquility before such a broken hearted girl. Nothing could cheer her up. Not even the now green grasses of her land, this visiting only rarely every year. Not even the company of her dogs. Not even the salty spray that sprinkled her weary body.

For all she longed for was Russia.

She only sat on this shore out of habit. She knew he wouldn't show. _But he used to show every Wednesday._ So here is where she will sit until the sky would dim. Or until her approaching schizophrenia made her see his ship. See his tall, broad frame run towards her.

Alaska knew this emptiness made her susceptible to this encroaching disease. And yet, buried within her was a battle. On one side, it wanted to let this take over, so she could see him again and laugh again, even if it was just false. On the other side, she wanted to stay sane, if not for her sake, than for those of her people, for her siblings.

So when she heard a familiar voice pierce her drum, she thought one side had lost. When her eyes landed on this person, she knew she had lost. Because there he was, same scarf, some violet eyes, same ashen hair. Of course, the dress was different than usual, much more formal, that didn't change what she knew. She had lost it.

Russia slowly approached her, expecting her to jump into his arms and weep. And he knew this is what she would do. But he didn't care. She needed to be taken care of, and that's exactly what he would do. Even if it broke her more than she was already, it had to be done. But when he saw her sitting in the sand, eyes wide and filled with fear, he grew confused. He watched as she began to scoot away, terrified.

"Stay away! You're not real!"

How cute. She had convinced herself so much that he would never come that she believed herself to be insane. Russia smiled that old smile, and that caring look appeared on his face again. This only convinced Alaska further that this was all false. Tears poured over her cheeks, hot and wet. They stung. She felt ready to vomit, cheeks sour and mouth wet. All she had left was her sanity, and now it was gone, never to return again, like the little boys interest in his toy.

Russia knelt next to Alaska, staring into her terrified eyes. Cruelty met terror, yet this cruelty wasn't what frightened her. Of course it wasn't cruelty in his eyes, though, it was sympathy, and caring, even if fake. He gently grabbed her wrists and placed her hands on both of his cheeks, delicately cupping his childlike face. It felt so strange for someone else's skin to touch his.

"What do you feel?" He questioned.

She began to settle, still shaking, but she closed her eyes as to not be fooled.

"S-skin. Warmth."

He delicately moved her hands to his scarf.

"And now?"

"Wool."

Russia's smile grew as she settled more. He moved her hand to his nose, and her fingers wrapped around it. A smile grew on her flushed face.

"Now?"

She laughed shakily.

"Y-your nose," she giggled.

Russia was glad. Now she believed he was there and cared again. So this may work. Of course he didn't want her believing she had lost her sanity, so there was some genuine concern and love behind his actions, but he was still motivated to have her taken care of properly.

"Now, please, open your eyes."

Alaska did as she was told, and tears spilled over again. Russia was slightly concerned as he thought he had lost her again for a moment. But her smile was still there, and she hugged him tightly. She wept in his arms like he knew she would, and he wrapped his arms around her like she hoped he would.

They walked along the beach silently. She never once asked why he left her for so long, because she didn't want everything to crumble around her. And Russia never made the truth apparent to her.

Suddenly his feet stopped, as did hers. She looked up at him with a concerned look, and he only smiled down at her, his head half a foot higher than hers.

"Alaska," He began.

"Yes?"

"How would you like to come to meet America with me?

**Yes! I got it to leave off of a cliffhanger! So, I'm sure you all know what will happen, which defeats the purpose of a cliffhanger, but oh well.**

**I apologize for it being so short. I tried to make it as long as possible. **

**Reviews are loved~**


	3. Lies

**Thank you for all your reviews! **

**HikariSoel:**

_**This one was a lot less confusing, and I loved the part about his nose~**_

Thank you, I'm glad you loved that part. I wanted to put something cute, but not TOO cute. And that probably misled people about Alaska's age, though. She's actually in her late teens, but this made her seem like she's a young child.

**C_H_I_D_O_R_I_S_H_I_O_R_I:**

_**Update please!!**_

I wanna see how Alaska will react to meeting a cheerful guy like America. ;)

This is really well written, continue as soon as you can!!

Thank you as well! And here you are with a new, if not as well written, update! Unfortunately you probably won't like Alaska's reaction to America. They won't get to interact much this chapter.

**yume~no~naku~koro~ni:**

_**Ah, it was almost a little refreshing for Roshia-kun to come back. Thumbs up for the dementia. Please write more. A~hi~**_

There's nothing wrong with leaving sanity. I crossed the line back when I was 12. ^^ You can join the psychotic syndicate, da~! :")

Aha~ I'd gladly join the psychotic syndicate! Alaska's personality, on the other hand, is much too fragile to handle such a thing.

I'm glad you found it refreshing for Russia to return. As much as I love him, though, he won't appear much. In the person, that is. Even though he is not physically present, he will still play a major role in the story.

**I decided to look over the whole exchange of money for Alaska, because that was a normal thing, and so why make her seem offended? After all, she could be sold like other property, so why should she be special? **

**And, I apologize for Alaska seeming so……weak. She will grow in strength over time, I promise. But right now, she needs to be fragile. So I apologize.**

**Cold as Ice**

**Chapter 2: **_**Lies**_

_And sometimes you close your eyes,  
and see the place where you used to live,  
when you were young._

_**When You Were Young **_**by The Killers**

All of the boat trips, all of the trips by rail, not even all of the trips possible by horse could've worn down her excitement. Here she was, finally, in DC. And Russia, her sweet Russia, had brought her.

And Russia, her _sweet _Russia, was going to leave her.

The warmth felt so strange. They had come in the spring time, when it wasn't too hot, nor too cold in America. The trees, the grass, even the sky all shone with a strange light, emerald, sapphire, and pure. Of course it probably looked like this to Alaska because she was so _happy_. So ecstatic. This coating her eyes with a filmy, sugary sweetness that could make even the most cruel heart jump when looking into them. So, of course Russia's did as well, it slamming hard against his rib cage. But he had to ignore this.

He couldn't doubt this decision. Not yet, at least. Not until too late.

Ivan watched as she spun around, like a child in a beautiful field of flowers. Then she stopped, and smiled, purple-blue eyes, vibrant with purity. He was confused momentarily, until she grabbed his hand gently.

"It's so beautiful here! Ivan, may I come with you next time when you come to visit, if it isn't to much trouble?" Her words flew past, coated in that sugary substance he hadn't heard since she was but a small child.

He must've been heartless. Not even this stung.

"You won't have to _visit, _anymore." He said bitterly, but with his usual sweet tone.

Alaska eyed him, unsure of what he meant. Had that slipped? Russia surely didn't want it to. He didn't want her to know what exactly was happening. Not until she couldn't retaliate.

"W-what?" Alaska asked, afraid to be abandoned.

He only smiled that lying, betraying smile of his, and laid his glove on her blonde hair, ruffling it just slightly, just as he used to.

"Never mind, небольшая птица (1)."

Blood slowly crept into Alaska's cheeks like it always did, and Russia made special note of this, yet simply smiled larger.

Alaska still had this unnerving feeling, a paranoia that she would be left all alone again. But she buried it, thinking it was only because she was left alone for so long. So, so long. _It was so cold, Ivan. _She simply didn't want to be left alone, freezing and insane. _I was so close to losing it, Ivan._ And she didn't want Russia to lose it, either.

A crunch. Subtle, yet obnoxious under the boot of America, still growing towards the west, which could be seen by his broadening shoulders. Alaska turned to him, as did Russia, and there was an obvious double-take when America saw the strange resemblance, knowing the two weren't related. His tired eyes gleamed, though, as he extended his hand out to Russia.

"I'm so glad you came Russia!" America beamed as he shook Russia's hand firmly.

"Thank you."

America's blue eyes then landed on Alaska, and if it wasn't for his obvious kindness, she would've hidden behind Russia, he being the only other person besides Russia that she'd met. Instead she simply blushed, just ever so slightly, though, not to make her anxiousness apparent. He extended his arm abruptly, yet gently, as to not startle the thin, tall girl. And she shyly raised her hand in response, firmly grasping his hand, and shaking it. One, two, three times. Up and down as Russia watched. Much slower in Russia's eyes then the actual speed of the occurrence, ever so slow and delicate. _Up and down._

"It's nice to meet you, Alaska!" America beamed cheerfully.

Ivan prayed to god America wouldn't let this slip.

"Likewise," it slipped past her slips, sugary sweet, anxious.

_Please god, don't let him say it._

Ivan, watched as their hands parted. And as soon as the tips of their fingers left each others hands, he grabbed America's arm. Firm, but not aggressive.

"America, how about we go discuss what we came to talk about?"

"Of course, Russia!"

_Don't turn around._

Yet he did anyway, and saw that worried look in her eyes, rising through the sugary coating like oil dropped into water. Still she smiled, ringing her hands together worriedly, watching as they walked on. Left then right, as if he were leaving her. He hated that look.

"I'll be back in a moment, небольшая птица."

There was the rosy blush to her cheeks from younger days.

_1)____небольшая птица means little or small bird. _

**Soooo… I know it wasn't nearly as good as last chapter. Forgive me. I love the reviews you all send, so please, send more. They bring a smile to my sullen, pale face when I feel sick or, well, sullen. I love to read them, and they give me inspiration. And so, send more please! **

**Also, I normally listen to music by Coldplay or OneRepublic when updating this fanfic, but today I listened to When You Were Young by The Killers, and I thought it suited this story very well. And so, if you need a song to listen to while reading this, try that. Or, something by Coldplay. There music seems to fit the pace of this a bit better. I don't know…..**


	4. The Heart Breaking of a Girl

**Hello everyone! **

**Today, as any other, is rather… ugh… Agitating… So much stress….. **

**I was reading over the last chapter's forward, and had a rather strange thought.**

**If I had intended to keep the whole exchange of money in, A.K.A. the purchase of Alaska…. Seeing as she is personified… that would make her seem like a prostitute, would it not? Maybe I realized this subconsciously, and this was my **_**actual **_**reasoning for leaving out the purchase. Hmm…. **

**I don't know…**

**So, let's start with the reviews, shall we?**

_**yume~no~naku~koro~ni  
**___

_**Oh dammit, it was too short yet powerful. That's all. My heart is pounding just as crazily as theirs and I dun even know why...:"D**_

The psychotic syndicate isn't mine, but I found a mention of it somewhere in w w w . w r i t e r m g . w e b s . c o m...xD

Please update~ :")

**Oh, wow. I'm so amazed that that chapter had such powerful influence! Thank you! That drives me so much more! …… Wow… aha~**

**I'll be sure to check there for it and join!**

**Thank you so much again!**

_**xWeaselxWolfx**__**  
**_

_**I really love these types of stories... when people dig deeper into the characters than just the randomness we always see in the show and manga :)**_

Characters are the one thing that truly trap me in a story, and yours has. Can't wait for an update! :D

**Again, I'm amazed at how much this influences you guys…**

**Thank you! That's the kind of story I was aiming for! Glad I hit spot on, though I feel I barely hit the target. ^^' I'm glad the characters drew you in as they have! I honestly try… **

**And honestly, I love the silliness of the manga and the anime! It cheers me up…. And makes me want to cuddle Russia to see his cute/sadistic side! Love~**

**But, again, thank you! Thank you all very much!**

**Anyway, I shall continue my ranting next time. Until then, here is chapter tres!**

**Cold as Ice**

**Chapter 3: **_**The Heart Breaking of a Girl**_

_Can we climb this mountain  
I don't know  
Higher now than ever before  
I know we can make it if we take it slow  
Lets take it easy  
Easy now, watch it go_

_**When You Were Young **_**by The Killers**

_Left then right. _One foot before the other as they slowly walked. The deed was done. Alaska was now America's. America had no idea what he has gotten into, that he had partaken in the heart breaking of young woman.

_But her heart was yet to be broken. _

As they walked, images, memories, popped into Russia's mind, like fireworks across the night sky.

"She may get along well with West Virginia!"

Like earlier, when the two shook hands. He recalled a strange pang, a flare of anger and anguish. And Ivan questioned, silently wondering to himself; _Why was he dwelling upon such a thing? _Why did such a simple event matter so much to him?

"The other states may not take her adoption well…."

America's hardened, work worn palm pressed against the door's handle, callused fingers wrapping around it. A gentle turn to the right, a heavy tug, and the door opened up, the outside world presenting itself before them.

A strange sight appeared before the world. Two tall men, both attractive in their own right; one obviously Slavic, the other with a hint of German ancestry. Step by step, they walked down the stairs, chatting nonchalantly. How could he talk in such a manner, knowing what he has done?

_It was for the best. _Playing in his head like a broken record.

They came upon Alaska, lying upon the ground, blue sky, accented with tufts of white, reflected off her violet blue eyes, dazed and unfocused. A white film replaced the sugary coating, a temporary cataract. She was obviously focused on something else.

_Perhaps that paranoia she's been nursing?_

Her ashen hair was splayed upon the ground. Pale yellow and green, dancing in discord. Russia lightly shifted his foot, and Alaska's eyes snapped back into focus. She shot up; back lurching, arms down to support herself. Her head turned to face them, back and up, over her shoulder, hair a mess, violet eyes tired and wide.

Then violet met violet, and the dazed look left her eyes. A slight smile grew across her face, and she jumped up to embrace Russia. Alaska's long, delicate arms wrapped around his tall, broad frame. And he simply stood there, empty faced, a hurtful look in his eyes.

Russia's war torn hands violently grabbed her upper arms, tempered fingers digging into shocked flesh. Anger flashed in his eyes.

_This wasn't the fire I wanted…._

His eyebrows furrowed, anger evident on every contour of his face. Alaska was dumb struck, unable to even whimper in reply, mouth agate, eyes wide and terror stricken.

Ivan gave her a nudge, gentle, yet hateful. But she was relying on his arms for support, so hurt and shocked her knees had collapsed beneath her. And so, her bottom harshly hit the ground, her body lightly jumping before coming back to earth. She numbly set her hands upon the ground. _Slow and delicate. _

"Don't touch me," he growled.

And slowly, one foot in front of the other, he walked away.

America watched awe stricken as the Slav walked on, not caring for his former territory. He turned towards Alaska, and immediately felt his heart strangely ache for her. She was mortified, tears pouring out of her widened eyes. Her body visibly shook, her jaw twitching, as if searching for her voice, long ago scared off.

"Ah… Ahahaha! I-I'm sure he's just kidding!"

He tried to loosen up the tension filled, heavy weighted air. But he failed, Alaska obviously knowing the truth. Instead, he watched, horrified as Alaska desperately began to crawl towards Russia. The grass and rocks soiled and tattered her dress, ripping stitch from stitch and flesh from flesh. Tears streaked her reddened face, a slight dribble of mucus coming from her petrified nose.

Alfred stood staring at her actions dumbly. He watched for the longest time, torn hand after torn knee, before he decided to intervene.

"H-Hey. Hey!"

He then ran up to her, awkwardly wrapping his arms around the struggling form of his new territory. It was uncomfortable, he hardly knew her, but it pained him to see anyone so pathetic, so broken. Alaska was fighting with all of her might, as little as there was, against his arms. A scream. Several sobs. Muscles relaxed, and she rested in his arms, sobbing over Ivan's leaving.

"_Don't be afraid, little one." _

"Noo!"

It burst forth through her lungs, anguished, hurt and struggling, gurgling past sobs and tears.

_An outstretched hand, worn and gentle._

"_I'm Russia, little one. What is your name?"_

"_A-Alaska."_

"No, no, no…" pathetic.

"_What do you feel?"_

"_S-skin warmth."_

"Please…" weak

"I'm so sorry Alaska…"

"I didn't know."

_Again in his head, like a broken record._

**Phew! That was fun, huh? **

**I hope you understood that after a certain point, the italicized bits were flashbacks to Russia and Alaska's happier days. **

**I hope this chapter was sorrowful enough. I tried. I truly wanted Alaska to be heart broken and terrified. I don't think I conveyed this well enough.**

**Anyway, reviews are loved!~**


	5. Plea

_**yume~no~naku~koro~ni  
**___

**...wow, that was fast.**

...insanely. fast.

For some reason Alaska's breaking makes me sad and giggle at the same time...  
"This wasn't the fire I wanted…."

Epic win line. xD

**Yeah. Now that I look at it alone, it's kinda cheesy. **

**I guess that ruined the whole feel huh?**

***sigh***

**And I wrote it during school, so that's why I updated so fast. **

**Well, at least it made you somewhat sad, right?**

_**StupidPyroCHan**_

**What do you mean, "I don't think I conveyed this well enough."?  
I thought that was pretty depressing.  
(This may sound weird, but I like fanfics that are sad.)  
I really do hope you make the next chapter!  
I want to know if she recovers or becomes a total mess. -w-"  
Again, please update soon! :D**

**Well, I've got really low self esteem about my writing now, since one of my friends said I suck…. Yeah, I'm really touchy.**

**And honestly, I don't think it's weird that you like sad fanfictions, because otherwise, I'd have one less reader! Aha~ **

**But seriously, I love depressing fanfictions as well, even more so if there's romance involved…**

_**Nico Hayakinth**_

**Wow, I love your writing style. Alaska, never seen that before. There are so many Ireland OCs, so a different one is nice. The concept seems interesting, too, and Russia could always use more loving. :D**

**Thank you, an all accounts, thank you! And Russia always deserves more lovens.**

_**Nico Hayakinth**_

**Awesome chappie. The part about Russia's nose made me laugh for some reason. :D**

**Thanks again! It might be because it's a little…. Adorkable? Ah, I love that word. **

**But anyway, I appreciate everyone's comments! One of my secret dreams is for this to become so popular they even talk about it in the fanfictions section on …. because I have problems…**

**I hope you like this chapter as much as the others… however much that is…**

**Cold as Ice**

**Chapter 4: **_**Plea**_

His blue eyes rested on the polished marble floor, weary weighted, heavy with a false cheerfulness. He honestly was not expecting this mass of lifelessness to be Alaska. He had heard wonderful stories of her bright demeanor, her blonde hair bouncing as she jumped about.

Today, as any other day, she just lay on her bed. A still doll, shrouded by the shadows permanently scarring her beautiful face. Even if there was light in the room, it couldn't reflect off of her eyes, still dying. All that lay in that mass of blankets was an empty body, heart still beating, each beat chipping into its microscopic sanity. Each breath withering her away. Nothing. He had never seen such nothingness.

His hand wrapped around the doorknob. He knew now that any hope he had for this to be a good day would be gone once he opened it. But he couldn't leave her be. As miserable as she was, he couldn't sit back and let her rot into a schizophrenic mess, she was already so close.

The door opened, light shining unto the pallor of human pain. No reflection off her eyes now. Her head half way covered with blankets.

"Good morning, Alaska!" Too much sugar to her bitter eyes.

He looked like an angel, with the light pouring in behind him, a rim of brightness around his frame.

Alaska cringed slightly. No response escaped her.

"Come on! Up and at 'me! I made your favorite, bacon, eggs, and toast! I know, it sounds good." He said with a conceded air, false and put on.

During the process of this speech, he had managed to pull her forward. But nothing else. She stared blankly, yet intently at the wall. There was a person she saw blocking it. His ugly, grotesque frame, twisted into a bloody mess that America couldn't see. She wanted him to leave. This man annoyed her with his devils grin.

"Come on, Alaska. Eat it, it's good," another day of the same attempts, of trying to shovel food into her unwilling chapped lips. Nothing. She was withering away. This was the 17th day of nothing.

America's patience wore thin. He was on the brink of breaking down. She heard his pleas, but did not absorb them. All she heard was mumbles of a pathetic nation, outside her bubble of torture she'd trapped herself in.

After the purchase, she gradually broke down. First, she'd stay by America's side, quiet and saddened by the loss. As time went on, and the bullying from the states grew worse, she'd stay at home, hidden in the brick and concrete. Eventually, the brightness of the house became too bright, so she locked herself in her room. During this course she still ate.

That was the six months before she went on her fast.

His smile grew across his face, pathetic and weak. "I'll just leave it here then."

He knew it'd be there when he came back.

America had grown close to the territory over the course of the past six months and 17 days. He couldn't tell what it was, but something beautiful ad worthwhile hid behind those empty violet eyes. A strength he wanted to unleash.

She began to lay down, a slow, gradual process. There was no more snap to her movements, everything being weary, sluggish. America reached out, and gently touched her forehead, a tender plea for a smile. He was not granted his wish.

Saddened again, America smiled. Bitter sweet. He turned, slowly, and walked out her bedroom door. She was left, again, to fend for herself in her mass of hallucinations. In truth, she hated when he left. But she hated to see him there, broken hearted and tired. She knew she made it harder for America, just recovering from the worst kind of war. Suddenly, a pain, different from the numb pain she felt now, emerged. It was guilt. Guilt for putting America through this. Although her low self-esteem screamed at her, a feeling of non-importance that had built up from the abuse she'd gone through, from Russia, from the states, this feeling still haunted her.

Her feeling of self worth wouldn't grow if she lay idle, stewing in her self pity and weakness.

Alaska gained all her strength, every bit of it that lay unused, pathetic as it was unneeded.

America did his daily routine. Moping around beneath his air of cheerfulness as he went about his business.

It had been two hours since he brought Alaska her breakfast.

"Best go get her scraps. I can at least save it for later," he mumbled.

And so he trudged up the darkened stair-frame. His day was going to only get worse. One foot in front of the other, 1……2……3……4 steps to the door from the stairs. Look to the right, there's the door to your pain, America. He slowly wrapped those war worn hands around the door knob… again. The door opened to show darkness… again. He looked to her night stand, blue eyes used to the routine. Yet something was out of place, something was missing.

Alaska's food. Every last bite was gone.

**Wow. **

**That seemed like some cheap romance novel. Ugh. **

**I feel like the story lost something over time. I swear, I can't convey pain well. At all. **

**I know you all were expecting a long chapter, or several chapters of her in severe depression, but I didn't want to have a ton of chapters of nothing but her moping around and whining. **

**But don't expect her to bounce back in one chapter. It'll be a gradual process, but not extremely long. I like long fic's, but I don't like INCREDIBLY long ones. I lose focus. And I would lose focus while writing one as well as I would reading one. **

**But still, it seemed incredibly cheesy, and I don't think this story's going to turn out well. I bet I'm going to read something that says this story had a lot going for it, but ended up being a huge let down. Because that's where it seems to be heading right now. **

***sigh***

**Oh well, I'll love you all if you keep with this story. **


	6. Okay

**I'd like to quickly thank you all for all the support you have given me! You all really cheered me up, and I feel I have more confidence now! **

**That being said, someone said they didn't like the extremely long author comments in the beginning, so I'm going to try to trim it down a bit. But, if you all enjoyed that, tell me and I'll go back to doing it! I'd hate to change something because just one person disliked it. But if you all don't like it, I'll shorten it still.**

**Well, here you all are!**

**Cold as Ice**

**Chapter 5: ****Okay**

Smooth skin folded back against itself, creating dimples and wrinkles. White peaked out from behind paled pink. And she smiled. A real, honest to god _smile, _not the kind you painted on like the make-up you wore, trying to fool those around you that you were cheerful, and everything was okay. It was real, and it was holding back laughter.

America didn't understand _why_, she was laughing. He didn't do anything different. He was a _little _more hyper, sure, but he didn't do anything intentional. Just handed her lunch, was that so humorous? Yet he laughed along when she finally let the giggles escape.

It was the way he always smiled, it never melting off to reveal inner pain. Yes, he'd been through a lot, but it was his recovery time. It was how fast he overcame any struggle with pride and strength. There was a layer over his eyes, over the pain. But it wasn't false; he wasn't wearing a mask like a woman trying to make herself flawless. It was that layer of happiness, the kind where you wake up one morning, hair a mess from a long nights rest, and realize you _have _overcome. No matter how much you sit and lie to yourself and say you're still hurting, you conquered. And things were fine.

They were both recovering. Say what you will, but things were better. And that was fine. Things didn't have to be perfect, where they sprung out of bed in the morning with a smile on their faces, and they didn't need to be reminded why they lived, they just _knew. _They fell out of their beds, like a normal person, tired and desperate for more sleep. Then they looked in the mirror. America saw the blurred reflection of a tired nation; Alaska saw the clear one of a worn territory. And that was okay. They didn't need a specific purpose to get up in the morning; they weren't on some quest to save the world, as much as America would like to think he was. They were getting up to eat, because they were hungry, for simple, menial reasons. And that was perfectly fine.

They didn't get dressed as if life was a special occasion. They didn't put much thought into it. They put on what they were expected to, and didn't try to be unique, though they probably looked like it to the rest of the world. They prepped themselves as usual, no smiles on their faces as if they expected something special out of the day. But their faces weren't morose, and blank. Though they didn't smile, there was an obvious cheerfulness about them.

Then they went to the kitchen. America's face gradually lit up as usual as he made the usual greasy meal; bacon and eggs. He wasn't a spectacular cook, and he didn't put on a show, but that was okay. He just cooked it like everyone else, occasionally burning the bacon. These pieces he would keep to himself, much to Alaska's dismay. She wanted to eat them. Not for some melodramatic reason, like eating them to take the pain and misery of eating burnt bacon off of America's shoulders, but because she liked them. America was aware, and ate them for this reason, and because he kind of liked them as well. It started out as a sort of parental thing, were you want your kids to have the best, but after Alaska said she liked them, he continued to eat them anyway to mess with her. She'd smirk and stick her tongue out, feeling a bit weird while doing so.

Then they went about what was required of them. For America this meant watching over his nation, and for Alaska it meant watching over her small amount of people, as well as avoiding the other states. Occasionally she'd run into one, and they'd insult her, putting her down with each syllable that escaped their mouths. On these days she'd go about her business with a hint of a gloom around her. Eventually she'd get over it though.

And today, like most other days, the two would meet for lunch. How the events built up to lung pains such as this they had no idea. They had the usual again; a sandwich. America had ham and cheese, Alaska had turkey with mayo. Nothing special. But for some odd reason, when America had finished making both of their sandwiches as usual, something happened. America hypothesized that Alaska finally lost it. She began to smile as she looked up at him from her seat, one hand firmly gripping the opposite of the plate on which her sandwich sat. Soon she laughed, and America, not wanting to question it and ruin the moment, laughed as well. Finally the lung pains stopped, and America wiped his tears away.

"What were you laughing so hard at?"

Alaska peered over to him as he slid into the chair opposite of her. It was a small, modest wooden table, surrounded by windows letting in the afternoon light from the sun, casting a yellowed light into the dining room. A confused look came unto her face as she looked at her sandwich.

"I-I don't know. Honestly, I don't. Just, something about you struck me as funny," direct and honest, "Maybe it was the mayonnaise on your shirt?" She questioned offhandedly.

"What?" He shrieked peering down. There was a blob of the white condiment on his shirt, as she said.

Alaska smiled once more, then they proceeded to eat after a short prayer. She would glance up occasionally to see America hungrily eating his sandwich. Although he used proper etiquette around guests, Alaska said he could be himself around her, and so he did. She, on the other hand, acted proper when eating. She herself was unsure if it was because she felt insecure around him, or because she was so used to it.

"We're okay, aren't we?"

America glanced up, mouth full, a bit of cheese hanging out.

"Hmf?" Was his muffled reply.

She laughed a bit, then repeated.

"We're okay, right?"

America raised his sleeve up and wiped his mouth.

"Yeah, we're okay," he smiled.

_Maybe that's what she needed, a little helping hand to pull herself off the floor, a set of blue eyes to look up to, even though they were behind a pair of glasses. Whatever it was, she got it. _

**I don't know what to think of this chapter, really. I think it was pretty deep, in my opinion, but it had sprinkles of shallowness in it, and I'm unsure if that ruined it or made it more true. I don't know. Tell me what you guys think, and remember to tell me if you want a long author comments section in the beginning of each chapter.**

**By the way, that little end tidbit was from the original draft for this chapter. I really like it and didn't want to throw it away, so I put it at the end here. **


End file.
